powerless

Meeting Her

"JACK!" I woke with a start.

"Yes mother?" I shouted groggily.

"Come down and meet your new friend!"

New friend? What new friend? Last time I checked I didn't have any friends. Other than Devan and Cherry, that is. 

"Who?" I questioned

"You'll have to come down and find out mister! You have five minutes to get presentable."

I grab blindly for my bedside table. After a minute of wild grasping my hands finally find their target. My pill bottle chalk full of un-prescribed painkillers. Or as I call them, heaven in a bottle. I shake a couple in my mouth and swallow them dry. Dragging myself out of bed I head towards the bathroom. I quickly brush my teeth and wash my face. I comb my hair and throw on a new pair of pants and a semi clean t-shirt.

Reluctantly I walk down the stairs to greet our new neighbor. I am shocked awake by the sight of her. She is beautiful. Her curly black hair is styled in a pixie cut. Her bronze skin glistens with a sheen all too familiar. Tears. She is gnawing on her chapped bottom lip vigorously, as though nervous to meet me.

"Jack, this is Shelly. She will be joining Cresswood for senior year, just like you!" she exclaims cheerfully. "Isn't that wonderful," she says as a statement, rather than a question. She then leans in real close as though she were about to say something so classified, no one could hear it but us. "You need to help her fit in. I know her dad from way back in grad school. She's antisocial and really shy. Could you just maybe help her get some friends?" Even though she phrases it as a question, we both know what the answer has to be. But that doesn't stop me from trying.

"Mom, please?" I ask pleadingly. I know I shouldn't say something like that, it violates my core rule. Don't ever let yourself be powerless. But I am shut down with a glare from my mother.

"I'm Jack Daniels, pleasure." I say, reaching my hand out to the girl.

"I'm Simpson- sorry i mean i'm Shelly, Shelly Simpson," she all but squeaks. She reluctantly takes my hand and gives it a firmer shake than I would've given her credit for. I already pity her. She is gonna get eaten alive at Cresswood.

"Come on, let's go to my room," I say gesturing towards the stairs. She blushes and stutters incoherently. "Not like that," I quickly say, my face surely now as equally red as hers.

"Um, yeah sure," she manages to stutter out, still tomato red.

"Here, it's this way." I state, striding in the direction of the stairs. she shuffles along behind me as we make our way up the stairs. I turned into my room.

"Sorry about the mess, I wasn't exactly expecting company," I say.

"Oh it's alright, mine's just as messy," she says in a quiet voice as she peeks around my room timidly. She walks over to my bedside table and picks up the painkillers that I lazily left on the table. She studies them for a moment and opens her mouth to speak. Reaching out immediately I snatch them from her.

"Those are nothing," I say quickly, while covering the label. She looks at me strangely but says nothing and continues her search. I sit down on my bed as an awkward silence fills the air.

" I didn't know the Simpsons had a daughter my age," I say. I know that they have a 4 year old girl named Jacqueline but I wasn't aware that they had any kid my age. She joins me on the bed, leaving an awkward two feet between us.

"They don't," she says coldly.

I start to ask why but the look she gives me makes my question die in my throat.

"So, are you excited about going to Cresswood?" I ask, trying to steer the conversation into safer waters.

"No," she states simply, now picking at the blanket with her nails, which were chewed short.

"I-" I am thankfully cut off by the sweet sound of my mother's voice.

"Shelly! Your mother is here sweetie," she calls up the stairs. Mentally, I thank my mother for cutting the awkward conversation short. We both get up and walk down the stairs in silence. In the sitting room, I see Mrs. Simpson and my mother sitting on the loveseat. Mrs. Simpson has her hands folded neatly in her lap.

"Ah there you are, Shelly," Mrs. Simpson daintily stands and my mother quickly follows suit. "Come, dear," she says, gesturing towards the door. My mother all but scampers towards the door to open it for Shelly and Mrs. Simpson.

"Uh, bye, Shelly," I wave awkwardly.

"Bye," she says quietly. As she walks out, she doesn't once glance back.